


Oblivion

by fragilevixen



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergent, F/M, Pre-and-post "Infiltrated", RST, Romance, Threats of Violence, Thriller, UST
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:48:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27582272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragilevixen/pseuds/fragilevixen
Summary: The undercover operation in Oregon takes an unexpected, unpleasant turn for Olivia Benson as an injury turns her life, and career, upside-down leaving her with pieces of her memory scattered in the wind.“The worst possible yearning is missing the person who is standing next to you.” - Wyatt
Relationships: Olivia Benson/Elliot Stabler
Comments: 25
Kudos: 22





	1. Retrograde

**Author's Note:**

> am·ne·sia  
> /amˈnēZHə/  
> noun  
> noun: amnesia  
> a partial or total loss of memory.  
> "they were suffering from amnesia"
> 
> Note: Walton County does not exist and neither does Hillsden, Oregon. I grew up in Oregon, so I am using Eugene, Oregon as the basis for my “model” to get the point across. Some of the places within context do exist (just not the towns or counties as they are presented). Please note, this is a departure from the SVU timeline. Consequential episodes that followed or were concurrent will not apply.

_How strange_

_To dream of you_

_Even when_

_I am wide awake._

-Anonymous

11:30 PM

Saturday, September 16th 2006

Prospect Park Apartments

Walton County, Oregon

The rain hadn’t stopped in days and the hillside was slick with the stream coming down from the blacktop, from the grass, and the solid layer of mud that had been dragged with it. Flash flood warnings had been issued off and on for most of the valley and higher elevations were being placed on an advisory for slides. It was a mess and fall had taken hold, shifting the wet weather to a torrential downpour that soaked a good pair of jeans clean up to the knee. The deeper into the woods one drove, the more likely that the blustering breeze and stinging precipitation would become closer to a preview of hail, slapping against metal with purpose. The wind blew and the trees shuddered, soaking the ground even more as the muted, amber light flickered above the drive.

It was eerily quiet. Probably too quiet.

The ambient sounds of rustling in the bushes and the snapping of twigs barely registered above the whistling of the gusts. Even the muddled wheezing from the thicket of underbrush was hardly audible as a set of headlights moved closer, spraying the sidewalk and the poorly maintained hedges with the murky water. There wouldn’t be much left of the dirt by morning and the sweeping away of the topsoil was just the beginning. The groan emanated from a gap in the fence and the shadows converged as crimson met mud, only to become part of the earth.

“…Help me,” Her voice was soft, ragged, and spent as she managed to slide out from beneath the twists and spirals of brush, covered in cuts and bruises. “Please, God, help me.”

Wisps of wavy, dark brown, and amber locks cascaded over her face as the uneven cement bit into her knees and palms while she struggled to crawl forward. Disoriented would have been putting it mildly as she lifted her head for a moment, the blood streaming from two unknown points above her hairline and her nose. Dizziness set in, doubling the image in front of her as it rippled through her, nearly bringing up the contents of her stomach. She listed forward, saving herself from meeting the pavement head first as she slid her arm forward before rolling onto her back. The agonizing cry was loud as her eyes rolled back from the surge of pain. It carried through her, from the top of her head to the bottoms of her feet.

A solitary porch light went on in the distance and the squeal of an ungreased hinge echoed in her ears. She slowly blinked and a distant flash of a memory burrowed into her brain of a wide, breathtaking smile and steel blues that ripped her soul asunder. As quickly as it entered her consciousness, it sputtered and went dark as the pain seared through her skull. There was nothing for her mind latch onto. It was slipping away like sand through her fingertips.

“Anyone, please,” Her lashes fluttered as she struggled with consciousness, with reality, as the ground beneath her gashed the skin along her elbows. “…Help.”

“Oh, my God,” An elderly woman clad in a bathrobe and slippers ventured into the brisk, wet night after the movement had been just enough to set off the motion sensor in front of her home. “Perry! Call 9-1-1! Someone’s been hurt!”

“Judith, you be careful out there!” Perry was gruff and the tone alone caused every hound in the neighborhood to start in on the barking as his wife knelt to help.

Judith’s curly, graying locks and pale blue eyes were a relief but not quite a comfort as her injured company did everything she could to sit up. She struggled against the assistance, fighting as though she were back at the start, thwarting off what had sent her reeling. Judith perched on her knees, soaking her pajamas and robe in the process, while Perry continued to scurry around inside. The presence of a stranger had unsettled the balance of their everyday sort of life, and nothing seemed right as the world shifted once more. The blood was everywhere and the plethora of thorns from blackberry bushes, the line of roses, and the mass of holly leaves had done their fair share of damage to her bare limbs and feet. The bruises were bright, fresh, and indicated a lengthy tumble. She’d been through enough.

Someone had robbed her of so much more than safety.

“I…can’t,” the sobs were gut-wrenching and she was on the border of hysterics even as Judith’s warmth surrounded her. “I…need…to…go…home.”

“I’m here, I’ve got you. No one is going to hurt you anymore,” Judith held the back of her head, delicately avoiding the damage as the rain battered them from above. “Help is on the way…Just hold on. You’re safe now.”

In the distance, sirens began to blare. Judith held on, cradling her as the flutter of lashes began to close over mahogany and Chesnutt irises that belonged to the mystery that had clawed her way out of the shrubbery. A mixture of tears, rain, and diluted blood soaked the material of a ripped shirt as the blue and red lights spiraled until they blurred together. It would look like a blackout and the sensation was comparable to the warmth slowly seeping away even as the breaths began to soften and heartbeats were like thunder in her chest. Something was slipping away.

Something was scattering like leaves in the wind.

6:00 AM

Sunday, September 17th 2006

Travelodge

Hillsden, Oregon

The room reeked of cheap beer, the remnants of vodka, and sweat. Agent Dean Porter had been burning the candle at both ends and his home away from home reflected every bit of his disinterest in keeping up appearances. The suitcase was half-propped against the wall, ties dangling over the side of a pair of pants in desperate need of an iron. He needed to shower. The urge to shave was winning as he stroked his chin while reaching for a questionable cup of water on the nightstand. He contemplated it and shrugged at the prospect that it had been there for a while.

One must die at some point. Might as well take a roll of the dice today.

The television flickered, glowing blue against the dingy surfaces of every wall as he lied there like a starfish against the headboard; arms extended out with his legs widely spread. It was mildly pathetic when examined from the outside but Dean didn’t seem to care. He dribbled as he drank another mouthful and nearly choked on it as the previous night’s indulgences came back to haunt him in the form of a raging headache. He had no one to blame but himself, though.

Somehow, slipping further into a bender didn’t seem entirely unattractive as he watched a rather robust fly land directly on the neck of an empty beer bottle.

“Son of a fucking bitch,” Dean was melancholy, at best, and the smirk on his face was from the reality of waking up in the middle of nowhere again. “I hate it here.”

Another blistering of rain pelted the window and captured his gaze as he slid out of the bed, assuring himself that the window was closed. He shoved the stopper in place and watched the sideways direction of the downpour as it hit the pavement beneath a lamppost. It was too early to be awake but the dull, melancholy light was more than enough to make him wince as he pushed the drapes the rest of the way shut. It wasn’t dark enough but it would suffice. Dean pivoted his hips and turned the volume up as the news was barely underway on his grainy television set.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. We bring you breaking news this morning, with Lonnie standing by, just outside of Holy Cross Hospital with details of an unidentified woman being brought in overnight with critical injuries,” The newscaster’s suit was perfectly pressed and a loud shade of coral, the buttons of her silk shirt casting light from the poor lighting inside the studio.

Dean furrowed his brow and continued to hover in front of the TV as the studio sent it out to the rainy scene in front of Holy Cross, where the flashing lights of an ambulance were still going in the background. He notched up the volume a little higher as he scooted onto the edge of the bed, straddling the corner while reaching for the half-empty bottle of water on the dresser. Lonnie was having a fair amount of technical difficulties but the introduction was clear about a woman, with a severe head injury, had been brought in overnight. She was absent of identification and hadn’t woke up yet, it was looking a little grim.

“…To protect the woman’s privacy, we are only going to offer up a description of her at this time,” Lonnie’s raspy voice was downright irritating but Dean was listening while scrutinizing the words as he set the bottle back down. “She just under five feet nine inches tall, brown, shoulder-length hair, and brown eyes.”

“Why does that sound like…” Dean was already reaching for his phone, dialing the number and waiting impatiently for anything but hung up after six rings. “Olivia.”

It couldn’t be real, though, could it? She wouldn’t have been that reckless, would she? Dean palmed his mouth and redialed while he paced the floor. Setting up a voicemail for an undercover operation wouldn’t have gone far. It’s a landline in an apartment and she wasn’t supposed to be here this long as it was. It continued to ring, almost to a buzzing, and surpassed double digits as he tore open the curtains.

“Goddammit, Benson,” Dean ended the attempt and started yanking clothing from the suitcase, aimlessly shoving his feet into a pair of pants as the wind throttled outside.

At the back of Dean’s mind, the thought was already blooming of the state he’d find her in once he arrived at Holy Cross. The loose possibility that it wasn’t her was slowly fading away as another jolt of pain worked its way through his skull. Having to rescue an NYPD officer from whatever mess she had gotten into was on his shortlist of things he wasn’t interested in doing. He couldn’t help but stare at the television as he worked the zipper and yanked a shirt on. It wasn’t frustration, it was something deeper and clouded by the looming hangover, as he reached for the water once more, draining the contents.

As he buttoned the final button and reached for the rental keys, the description scrawled across the bottom of the screen and set off a final mechanism.

This was going to be a very long morning.

6:30 AM

Holy Cross Hospital

Walton County, Oregon

There was a stagnant, high-pitched buzzing in her ears. It came before nausea as the bright, white light filtered through her lashes and delivered a punch to the ocular nerve as she tried to open her eyes. The beeping of monitors and the static hum of a muted television softened the chatter of hospital staff as she rolled to one side, bumping the heavily bruised section of her face in the process. She gasped and winced as she groped for the controls to sit up, narrowly missing the line leading out of her arm as she focused on the door. She wanted to vomit all over again as the room began to spin.

“Miss, settle down, settle down,” A nurse scurried back in and pushed another pillow behind her, guiding her back onto the comfort of a thick support as the balance didn’t quite catch up yet. “…you’ve had a rough night and we can’t have you pulling your IV out.”

“You know, I do have a name,” She looked down at the tape and her stomach turned as the golden curls from her nurse’s loosely wound bun caught her eye, the double vision weaving in and out as she struggled to focus. “Where am I?”

“You’re in a hospital in Oregon, honey,” Her pools of blue and green were soft and calming as they searched the deep, confusion addled mahogany ones partially shielded by long, impressive lashes. “That is a relief to hear. What’s your name?”

“Olivia…Olivia Benson,” Olivia hadn’t said it out loud and it sounded foreign as she gingerly touched a bandaged spot along her hairline. “Everything is a blur…wait, did you say Oregon? How did I get here?”

Olivia wanted out of the bed. She wanted to look in the mirror and see the damage that had been done. There was a rotten ache in her soul as the gaping, blank space seemed endless even as she grimaced at the lines on the floor. It was there, somewhere, being held hostage in the abyss, and the key was floating at the bottom. Far from the tips of her fingers and just out of reach.

“You don’t remember anything, Olivia?” Her nurse was speaking slowly, softly, and seemed to be concentrating on not adding to her distress as she checked the levels on the IV bag and pushed another round of pain killer into the drip. “You don’t recall what happened to put you here?”

Olivia was staring at her arms, at the deep bruising and little gashes that had begun to develop across the surface of her skin, deepening the shock as she shook her head, swallowing the tears. “I remember the rain and the woman on the sidewalk when the sirens came. I don’t understand. Please, tell me how bad this is…please tell me it wasn’t rape because I don’t know if I can handle not remembering and being violated on top of it.”

“The doctors know you hit your head, likely from a fall,” The nurse gathered the fingers on her free hand, squeezing it just enough to capture her attention as she cleared her throat. “You showed no signs of that kind of trauma. Are you sure you don’t know what happened to you, Olivia?”

Olivia sighed, the relief evident as the void in her consciousness felt endless with every breath as she glanced at the door again. “The last thing I remember…was…I don’t even know. I was getting paperwork for the NYPD and it’s all…I don’t know.”

“How old are you, Olivia?” The nurse asked a question, almost with a sense of irony beneath it, and held out a plastic cup filled with cold water and ice chips. “Do you remember what year it is?”

Olivia grazed the gauze again, the panic rising as she stared at the floor while searching for the words. “I’m…twenty-four…it’s 1992? I think? I don’t know. Is that wrong? Is that the wrong answer? That sounds like it’s not the right answer.”

“Oh, of course not, Olivia. There’s no wrong answer, dear,” She was trying to soothe but it was coming out half-patronizing and it only made the sinking feeling worse as Olivia held back the gag as her stomach rolled once more. “Everything is fine.”

Something was wrong and no one was telling her yet.

10:50 AM

16th Precinct

New York, NY

The bustle of the squad room had kept Elliot from allowing a thought to bloom. It had kept him from staring at the display of his cell phone, adding another day to his mental calculation of not hearing Olivia’s voice or seeing her face. It had kept Elliot from exercising another lesson in futility by dialing her disconnected line for the hundredth time. He hadn’t been sleeping and the nights that he could were met with the same set of circumstances—waking up alone in a cold sweat wondering how he’d gotten there. He needed her endless, often unwanted, advice and to hear those irritating sighs that made her so perfectly Olivia.

Elliot couldn’t help but feel a little responsible for her absence even though he knew, deep down, there wasn’t anything he could have done.

“Earth to Elliot,” The sound of Dani Beck’s voice was the last thing he wanted to hear but there it was, like nails down the chalkboard as he reached for the nearly empty cup of coffee. “Rough night? You look like hell.”

“What kind of question is that? Every night is a rough night,” Elliot’s voice was flat, void of emotion, and a little monotone as he lifted his eyes just enough to acknowledge her presence. “Every morning is rougher.”

“You’re a ray of sunshine,” Dani cradled her cup of coffee, smirking at him from behind the rim as she took the first sip of java and sighed into the atmosphere. “How long has the Captain been on the phone with the door shut?”

“You know, you’re awfully nosy today,” Elliot rolled his eyes and started pulling apart paperwork in his inbox that still needed to be processed, purposely putting it on her as he set up his piles. “I try not to go making it a habit of listening in on Cragen’s phone calls…but you’re welcomed to try.”

“Don’t act like you’re not thoroughly intrigued by the prospect of a closed door, blinds tilted up conversation that he’s obviously been in for long enough to dispel a lengthy set of dialogue from,” Dani had been done with her paperwork and the lack of interest in busying her self with something else was more than evident as she ignored the phone ringing next to her. “Come on, Stabler.”

“Answer your phone,” Elliot shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he could hear the distinct turning of Cragen’s door. “You have work to do and so do I.”

“Elliot, my office,” Cragen had that tone that wasn’t quite irritation but it wasn’t jovial, either, after the door swung open, squeaking on its hinges, the expression pensive as he stared through the back of Dani’s head. “…now.”

“Ooh, that can’t be good,” Dani watched him rise from his seat and move toward the door, the concern on his face as he pushed a couple of papers away from a corner of his desk as he passed. “Deadman walking.”

“Captain?” Elliot could feel the glacial presence of his boss as he passed through the doorway, his hand still on the handle as he furrowed his brow at the back of his head.

“Close the door, please, and have a seat,” Cragen cleared his throat as he pilfered through a drawer, busily searching through everything in his poorly organized space as Elliot hesitated to close the door.

Elliot studied his boss’s movements as he pulled Olivia’s shield, badge, and information sheet from a file while he became increasingly pale and haphazard as he moved around the room. “Boss, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know how else to say it so I’ll just say it,” Cragen turned his head as Elliot sat down on the other side of the desk, his eyes glued to Olivia’s name across her shield as the light shimmered across it. “Thirty minutes ago Agent Porter called me to inform me that there’d been an accident…”

“Is Liv okay?” Elliot could hear his own heart beating into his throat as he was already picturing the worst while his head began to swim. “Captain?”

“Liv was hurt but she’s conscious and I need you to pack a bag. We’re on the first flight out to get her aimed in the right direction,” Cragen knew that ripping the Band-Aid off had taken skin with it but he had to as he made eye contact with Elliot and swallowed hard. “There’s more but I don’t know how you’re going to handle it…”

Elliot felt the wind go out of his lungs as he squeezed his fingers along the back of the chair he’d been sitting in, ready to drop to his knees at any second as he shook his head slowly. “No, you’re gonna have to tell me. I can’t wait until I’m across the country to find out what happened, Captain.”

“The doctor treating Olivia mentioned retrograde amnesia,” Cragen held a breath as he nodded slowly and reached for her things, putting them into the bag he kept tucked away in his desk.

“Jesus,” Elliot held his palm to his mouth and exhaled through his fingers, the flashing image of his panicked partner and best friend looking at everyone as though they were nothing more than a stranger was already working his last nerve. “She’s not going to know who we are, is she?”

“There’s a chance she’s not going to remember anything or anyone but herself for a while,” Cragen exhaled slowly and pushed a drawer shut, the determination written on his face. “We’ll stop on the way to the airport and get you packed.”

Elliot blinked in hopes of waking up from the nightmare that was unfolding before him that had been far too real in a matter of seconds. The bile swelled in his stomach as stale coffee came back up to slide across his tongue, nearly leaping forward as he rose from his chair. He had too much to do and vomiting across the Captain’s desk was low on the list as he moved toward the door. Even his inordinately patient superior had shed his skin, unveiling the less put-together version of himself as he ran through a series of numbers on the phone in front of him. Liv was the one thing that tied them all together and they were facing an unraveled reality as the words “she’s not going to remember” hovered in the air like fog.

“Let me just call Kathy and give her a heads up that I’ll be dropping by,” Elliot cut through the static and maneuvered into the squad room, his eyes narrowing as he pulled the cell phone from his pocket.

“What’s going on?” Dani couldn’t have had worse timing interrupting him as he rifled through his desk for his belongings, pulling a set of keys from a center drawer. “Elliot?”

“Shit, she’s not answering,” Elliot hung up, shoved his phone into the same pocket, and evaded that stare from Dani as she elevated both brows expectantly. “You’re going to be on your own for a while…Captain Cragen and I have to take a trip to Oregon.”

“To Oregon? Why? What’s going on?” Dani had the receiver propped against her shoulder, not listening to the chatter on the other end as she rolled her chair forward, putting her positioning a little closer. “What about me?”

“What about you?” Elliot didn’t mean for it to sound cold but it came out rhetorical and unfeeling as he made eye contact with her, finally crossing the bridge he had been avoiding. “You’re staying here and doing your job while I go get my partner out of a hospital in the middle of nowhere. She’d do the same for me.”

“Elliot, she left this department, she’s not your partner anymore, I am,” Dani had buried the thought but it was crawling to the surface as she pensively pushed her index against his bicep to capture his attention. “Or is it really because you’d do anything for your precious Olivia?”

Elliot didn’t have time to argue with Dani about the semantics of what Olivia was. It didn’t matter that the desk Olivia once sat at now housed another Detective or that he spent numerous moments wondering when she was going to walk back in the door. Knowing something had happened to her had flicked a switch within Elliot’s soul and the sour taste at the back of his throat wasn’t going anywhere. It was settling in, reminding him of the last time he’d seen her face. They’d both gone through the wringer and the job was taking a back seat to the safety of each other.

Elliot didn’t know how to feel and somewhere, he knew, neither did Olivia.

“I don’t know what you think _this_ is but Liv doesn’t just stop being my partner because she took another assignment,” Elliot lowered his voice and uttered it, driving the point home with the slam of a drawer, pressing his lips together. “I promised that a long time ago.”

“So, it’s just that easy for you to go running to her rescue every time she needs you?” Dani had a moment to think as she stood, half following him toward the doorway.

Elliot grimaced and shook his head in disbelief over the nearly territorial way she was acting toward him, without necessity as he was thinking solely about Olivia’s condition. “You know what? Yeah, it is just that easy.”

Elliot didn’t know how to feel and somewhere, he knew, neither did Olivia.

“I don’t know what you think _this_ is but Liv doesn’t just stop being my partner because she took another assignment,” Elliot lowered his voice and uttered it, driving the point home with the slam of a drawer, pressing his lips together. “I promised that a long time ago.”

“So, it’s just that easy for you to go running to her rescue every time she needs you?” Dani had a moment to think as she stood, half following him toward the doorway.

Elliot grimaced and shook his head in disbelief over the nearly territorial way she was acting toward him, without necessity as he was thinking solely about Olivia’s condition. “You know what? Yeah, it is just that easy.”

Elliot didn’t have time to argue with Dani about the semantics of what Olivia was. It didn’t matter that the desk Olivia once sat at now housed another Detective or that he spent numerous moments wondering when she was going to walk back in the door. Knowing something had happened to her had flicked a switch within Elliot’s soul and the sour taste at the back of his throat wasn’t going anywhere. It was settling in, reminding him of the last time he’d seen her face. They’d both gone through the wringer and the job was taking a back seat to the safety of each other.

Elliot didn’t know how to feel and somewhere, he knew, neither did Olivia.

“I don’t know what you think _this_ is but Liv doesn’t just stop being my partner because she took another assignment,” Elliot lowered his voice and uttered it, driving the point home with the slam of a drawer, pressing his lips together. “I promised that a long time ago.”

“So, it’s just that easy for you to go running to her rescue every time she needs you?” Dani had a moment to think as she stood, half following him toward the doorway.

Elliot grimaced and shook his head in disbelief over the nearly territorial way she was acting toward him, without necessity as he was thinking solely about Olivia’s condition. “You know what? Yeah, it is just that easy.”


	2. Unfamiliar/Familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliot and Captain Cragen, full of anxiety, uncertainty, and unknowns, fly to Oregon to assess the damage done to Olivia and gauge just how quickly she’ll be able to return home despite the holes in her memory.
> 
> “The eye likes novelty, but the ear craves familiarity.” – W H Auden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Walton County does not exist and neither does Hillsden, Oregon. I grew up in Oregon, so I am using Eugene, Oregon as the basis for my “model” to get the point across. Some of the places within context do exist (just not the towns or counties as they are presented). Please note, this is a departure from the SVU timeline. Consequential episodes that followed or were concurrent will not apply.
> 
> I researched amnesia for this and tried to make it believable. Every person's recovery will be different...and not every memory will always return.

_Life is full of second chances._

_When they come, be more intentional,_

_Courageous and appreciative._

-Brendon Burchard

11:30 AM

Stabler House

72-12 Castleside Street

Glen Oaks, Queens, NY

Elliot had tried three times in the drive over to give Kathy the advanced warning that he was coming to pick up a few things he hadn’t been keeping at the apartment. She hadn’t answered her phone nor had she returned a single message but he knew that she would develop concern over the sound of his voice. He hadn’t anticipated the possibility of Kathy or the kids coming home while he was in a panic; his mind was elsewhere. Elliot’s mind was already halfway across the United States, eager to see if Olivia was okay. There was something brewing, though, almost to the point of troubling him as he pushed a pair of jeans into a carry-on and zipped it shut that had his stomach rolling.

Olivia isn’t going to know who he was and the static of coming to grips with the fact that he was going to have to start over from scratch…rebuilding the trust that had already taken a hit.

He wasn’t sure how much he could take and he was desperate not to think about the frame of mind she had been developing since waking up in a hospital bed.

“Elliot?” Kathy’s voice nearly made him leap out of his skin as he located pieces of identification in an old drawer near one of the windows. “I got your messages…what’s going on with Olivia?”

Elliot didn’t want to stop moving as he barely registered the expression on her face as being remotely troubled, his anxiety climbing as he almost knocked a lamp over with the duffle bag. “I didn’t know exactly where she was for her assignment with the FBI but there was an accident…she’s in Oregon and doesn’t know how she got there.”

“Your face is turning bright red, Elliot,” Kathy reached for his shoulder to get him to stop moving, the timbre of her voice climbing as she could hear the staggered breaths and see the sweat on his brow. “Tell me what happened…stop.”

“I can’t,” Elliot wanted to shout but the sound came out as a dull whisper, exhaustion setting in as he made eye contact with the woman that he’d been estranged from for so long. “…I don’t know what’s going to happen and Captain Cragen booked the soonest flight out. No one knows exactly what happened and that’s the issue. I don’t have time to wallow in it.”

“What are you going to do when you get there?” Kathy crossed her arms as she watched him put a travel kit into the top part of the bag, shoving it into the space he had left. “Do you have everything you need?”

“My brain is scattered and I can’t think about anything but what I’m going to see when I get there. There’s a chance it’s going to be a big mess and I’m just trying to prepare myself for the worst,” Elliot exhaled slowly, looking out the window at the impatiently waiting Captain Cragen in the Crown Victoria that had a Uni at the wheel. “I gotta go, Kathy.”

“I think you need to do one thing before you leave,” Kathy’s voice had something hidden beneath it as Elliot slowly spun, making eye contact with her as she fidgeted with her fingers and exhaled slowly. “It should be something to think about, anyway…or one less thing on or mind if you look at it that way.”

“Please don’t pile more complications on me,” Elliot crossed his arms and held a breath as he felt his stomach dropping, the sound of her voice doing little for his rising anxiety as he spied the waiting door in his periphery. “I don’t think I can handle it.”

Kathy hesitated as if the contemplation had her close to the edge of regret while she chewed the inside of her cheek. He recognized that facial expression all too well. It was the same one that donned her face when they’d found out about the twins…fear mixed with waving a white flag. Elliot sighed and let his arms drop, glancing out the window at the car with the Cragen chatting away on his cellular. Nothing was making sense and Kathy’s collision course of emotions wasn’t assisting in the matter.

Kathy cleared her throat and reached for his hand, gently tugging at the wedding ring around his finger, capturing all of his attention. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t take satisfaction in making anyone miserable or preventing you, specifically, from being happy—”

“Kath,” Elliot knew, in his gut, that he loved her, but it wasn’t the kind of love that once burned like fire as he watched the pale spot on his finger start to scream at him. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you the chance to do what you should have done when you signed the papers and left them in the mailbox,” Kathy palmed the ring and forced a smile, the sincerity glaring as she held it close and looked up at him. “…go.”

“I’ll let you know what’s going on when we get there?” Elliot knew it came out like a question as he fumbled with his bag before clumsily hugging the mother of his children after she opened the front door.

“If Kathleen gets wind of this, she’ll grill me until I hear from you,” Kathy followed him as far as the threshold, watching him hover at the edge of the porch while she leaned against the doorjamb. “You know how she feels about Olivia.”

“Like she’d sell us for her? Yeah, I know. I’ll call,” Elliot was already a little lost as began the descent toward the sidewalk, taking a final look back at Kathy in the doorway. “…I promise.”

“I meant what I said,” Kathy crossed her arms, the parental flicker deepening as she held a breath again. “I don’t want to make excuses or lie to Kathleen, so just…check in with me.”

“You won’t need to make up a story,” Elliot was standing on the cracks in the pavement, nodding gently toward her as Cragen’s voice chided behind him. “Thank you.”

Kathy exhaled, blinking slowly as he hadn’t moved another inch. “Anytime—now go, you’re going to miss your flight.”

Elliot’s acquiescence had been unspoken as he turned, contemplating the void on his left hand. There was nothing reluctant or depressing in it but it felt final and raw as he scratched the spot, feeling the overly soft section of flesh that hadn’t kissed daylight in a while. It wasn’t important, though, as a flash of Olivia’s inquisitive smirk passed into his consciousness and nearly leveled him as he opened the car door. He didn’t know how to handle it if something more happened to her. Seeing her in one piece was the only thing on his mind.

That, and being able to know if he stood even a half chance of undoing the domino effect of the damage done by an accident he’d given anything to prevent.

1:15 PM

Portland International Airport

Portland, Oregon

Time seemed to have stood still as the stink of rain and the nearby tarmac wafted into Elliot’s nostrils. Cragen was holding it together considerably better than he was or at least seemed to be. They’d collected keys to a rental and obtained convoluted directions to Holy Cross Hospital from the Enterprise-Rent-A-Car desk. The girl did her best to maintain that stapled smile as she repeated it twice, for their benefit, before reaching across the counter for a map to follow with the tip of a pen. It was at that point that Elliot understood the series of cutoffs, curves, and switchbacks that neither of them was used to.

This was foreign territory and they weren’t ready to see Olivia…in so few words.

“Stop looking like you’re constipated,” Cragen broke the pregnant silence while Elliot chimed the locks on the rental from a distance inside the parking garage. “If she sees you like that…she’ll wonder what kind of oddities she left behind.”

“I can’t help it,” Elliot knew it was just a gentle jab to get him to harness his energy as he popped the trunk and tossed the modest bag into the back, popping his neck in the process. “I keep asking myself how it happened, what shape she’s in, and how long she’ll be like this…”

“It won’t do her any good to wonder,” Elliot’s Captain was wiser than anyone wanted to give him credit for as the western sky opened, battering the top of the parking structure before they could even get into the rental. “We have a drive and the sooner we get there, the sooner we’ll know what’s going on.”

“I admire your optimism,” Elliot had the keys in the ignition, the echo of tire squeal reverberating through the cab of the SUV as he flicked his wrist, swallowing away some of his trepidation. “What if she loses her patience and tells us both to fuck off?”

“Well, Elliot, this is Liv we are talking about and she isn’t shy about giving either of us a piece of her mind,” Cragen smiled, the thoughtful presence of a fatherly figure floating in those eyes as he snapped his seatbelt into place, shaking his head gently. “I don’t know about you but if she does decide to say that…I’ll happily take a step back and hope she changes her mind.”

“She’s done it before when she had all of her faculties locked into place,” Elliot hid the smirk as he chewed on the edge of his lip, his mind dotting back and forth to the unintentionally attractive look she gave when she was mad. “I should’ve just let my brain go immediately to the sound of her ticked off through her teeth after pushing…all of her buttons.”

Elliot was lost in contemplation, remembering the last time she called him a _goddamn_ _son of a bitch_ , admonishing a piece of his memories as the recollections only made him want her more. Olivia lit a fire in him that hadn’t felt flame in years. The notion illuminated the miserable failings of his marriage while drawing attention to the undeniable trust that had cemented for the only woman that kept his feet planted. Even Kathy couldn’t quite keep his heels planted without pinching the Achilles; they had resorted to hurting each other emotionally to keep the other from leaving. It was one of the things that provoked Elliot into signing the papers.

It was one of the reasons that Kathy took the ring away from him before he got on the plane.

It was the why his focus so easily tipped back to Olivia…even with so much uncertainty surrounding her.

“Knowing that the version of Liv we encounter might see herself as a barely sworn in officer of the law will be a slippery slope,” Cragen was staring at the landscape out the window, at the mixture of greenery and rain as they turned their first corner at the edge of the airport entrance. “Headstrong and willful might be putting it mildly.”

Elliot pursed his lips and took the first junction, merging into slower than average traffic that he hoped didn’t prophesize the rest of the journey, mental processes ticking away at far too much. “Remind her of nothing, tiptoe around the issue, and do everything not to throw too much information at her to process…”

2:15 PM

Holy Cross Hospital

Walton County, Oregon

Olivia had been seen by four different specialists in a matter of hours. The patience she’d had when her eyes opened had thinned to nothing more than water through a sieve, pouring across every surface as the nurses dodged her questions. She bottled the anger a little more; pushing the sensation down as her temple throbbed and the haze swirled in her head. Olivia just wanted to go home but no one was willing to give her answers or even give her a clue about the extent of her injuries or whether she was capable of being away from the confines of a hospital bed. Olivia’s thumb instinctively gathered across her neckline, pushing along a necklace she didn’t remember, that she didn’t know, wincing anything into fruition.

The strain did nothing but spur another headache.

Olivia’s attention diverted as the discomfort began to rise with the unmistakable presence of a shaggy-haired man pacing just beyond her hospital door.

“Joy, who is that man?” Olivia trapped a straw between her fingers and teeth as nurse Joy Evans continued to check monitors and IV lines coming off the bed, the rasp in her voice deepening as the medicine continued to do their work. “He’s been pacing for at least ten minutes.”

Joy lifted her head, waiting until his pale visage passed by the window again before resuming the task at hand, nonchalance in her voice. “He says he knows you…Dean something. Seems to be really concerned for your safety.”

“I don’t know him,” Olivia didn’t hold back as an eyebrow elevated while she sipped the chilled water in her hands, the pain addled shake returning in her arms as she held the plastic a bit too high. “He’s making me uneasy and I’d like it if he’d just stop. Shouldn’t he be in a waiting area until he can provide proof of association or something?”

“I can’t tell if you’re getting aggressive over the pain medication or if this is your normal response but I’ll take care of it,” Joy had a sassy bedside manner and it was necessary with a patient like Olivia as she gathered her clipboard before moving toward the door, hesitating for a second as Dean stalled near one of the doctors.

“I have been waiting since this morning to check on my colleague and no one is giving me answers,” Dean’s voice carried and made Olivia flinch as she sank in the adjustable bed, concealing more of her frame as she made herself look smaller. “Is anyone going to volunteer anything or am I going to have to start calling in the cavalry?”

“Mr. Porter, there is no need for that and lower your voice, you are in a hospital wing with patients who are already working through trauma,” Joy didn’t back down as she gestured toward the waiting area, her unapologetic smile working his last nerve without doing a damn thing to her resolve. “They don’t need to add the sound of a grown man yelling to their list of stress.”

“No, nope, not buying it,” Olivia feverishly shook her head and wound her fingers around the edge of the blanket, pushing herself not to continue looking at the train wreck as it unfolded outside. “That man doesn’t know me, no way in hell…and if he does, I hit my head before everything went fucking dark.”

The second of Olivia’s doctors, Mark Halifax, snapped his fingers toward the end of the hall, signaling toward a set of officers and his staff partners before pushing past, entering the room as though it were another day at the office. “Okay, Olivia…I know you’re getting antsy and are asking a lot of questions but I am here to help with a few of them if you’re up for it?”

Olivia groaned as she attempted to straighten her spine, the unbelievable pain searing through her, all along her back and ribs as the pillow settled against her figure. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Doctor Halifax leaned against the foot of her bed, double-checking her chart for the last vitals reading, occasionally glancing at Olivia’s face as she stared up at him expectantly with an undertone of impatience. “You fractured two of your ribs, bruised three more, nearly punctured your lung, have a hairline fracture along your hairline just above your temple, and ended up with one of the more intense concussions I’ve seen in a while…you’re lucky that you’re alive because we don’t know how far down that hillside you fell.”

“I…I don’t know where I even fell from,” Olivia squinted and felt the inhale hitting her sternum like a ton of bricks, reminding her of the delicately wrapped parts of her body as she pressed her hand against her abdominals. “I don’t remember much of anything.”

“Common,” Doctor Halifax was giving her just enough information to placate her but not enough to divulge the extent of the damage as he swallowed hard and crossed his arms. “Lapses in clarity are to be expected with a head injury…especially one as delicate as yours.”

Olivia wasn’t buying his well-scripted explanation. Her guard was up and the red flag was signaling as every synapse was fighting to fire, refire, and fight within the body that had been battered so badly. Every piece of the puzzle was pushed apart and the edges no longer lined up or fit where they belonged. Olivia was desperate to go home but, at the back of her fog addled mind, the concept seemed distant, blocked. More out of reach than it had ever been in her life.

At least, that she could recall.

“When can I leave?” Olivia wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries or making friends with hospital staff and the sterile odor was less than pleasing on top of her discomfort as she shifted in the bed. “Or is the rest of what you’re not telling me…is that I broke the law and you’re preparing to have me transferred to the county lockup now that I’m lucid?”

“A sense of humor? Fantastic,” Doctor Halifax smirked and double-checked the dosage at her IV even though Joy had already done it twice, smothering the laugh behind pursed lips as he dialed it back a notch. “I would be concerned if you couldn’t push a little sarcasm my way.”

“There’s a healthy mixture of sarcasm, frustration, and confusion,” Olivia wanted the IV out of her arm and needed something, anything, to look familiar in a room full of so many variables. “None of this is right and every time I try to picture where I’ve been…it comes up blank.”

“Normal,” Doctor Halifax nodded and checked the wound at her hairline, reassuring himself that it didn’t require cleaning. “All of that is normal.”

“Doctor Halifax?” Another nurse peered into the room, capturing his attention as she held a clipboard to her chest, her voice soft but not at all meek. “There’s a Captain Cragen and a Detective Stabler from New York that just arrived, asking for Miss Benson?”

“Who is?” Olivia was craning her head to look around her, the distinctive figure of Elliot standing in the hall, his face half-hidden by the woman. “…oh, my God, move.”

“Olivia, you just relax for a moment, okay?” Doctor Halifax completely blocked her path, furthering her irritation as he could hear the groan while he made his way into the hall, pulling the door shut behind him.

“You must be Doctor Halifax?” Cragen offered to shake his hand, the trepidation swirling as he couldn’t help but look at Olivia through the gaps in the blinds, wondering how bad it really was. “I’m Captain Cragen, this is Detective Stabler…you spoke to me briefly this morning after Agent Porter called to tell me what had happened? How bad is she?”

“She’s rough but that sense of humor hasn’t suffered,” Doctor Halifax earned a chuckle from Elliot as he paced, the nervous energy finally bubbling over as he caught a rough glimpse of her frailty on display. “Memory took a hit…she’s lost some time.”

Elliot didn’t care how much of Olivia’s memory had disappeared. He cared about her condition and the bruises on her face that he could see from the hallway. She looked battered; like one of the victims that they had spent time counseling and coaching with a careful hand. This wasn’t how he imagined seeing her again and his soul twisted in a knot at the thought that she wouldn’t know who he was as he could see those piercing eyes staring right at him through the glass. She could disarm him without even trying.

It was a gift and a curse.

“Is she going to be okay?” Elliot bit down on his lip, caught in the tractor beam of that gaze from the other side of the door, his heart aching with every breath. “I don’t mean the amnesia, either. I’m talking about those visible wounds, the damage that was done to her physically.”

_Someone’s gonna pay for that._

“Nothing that can’t heal with time,” Doctor Halifax couldn’t help noticing that they were a lot less intense than Agent Porter, to the point that he shrugged his shoulders and gestured. “I won’t hesitate to ask you both to leave if there’s the slightest sign of discomfort…I’m not sugarcoating the memory loss. There’s a high probability of her not recollecting either one of you.”

“I’d rather take that chance than have her continue to stay in a place she doesn’t know,” Cragen’s parental instinct was kicking into overdrive as Doctor Halifax reached for the door, tempting fate.

Elliot did have his doubts, but it was worth it, somehow, even as Doctor Halifax led the way and he was inescapably caught in the continued stare from the woman that had taken the wind out of his sails. She had an impenetrable glance and a wisp of confusion buried beneath the intrigue as Doctor Halifax let them in and closed the door. The silence was deafening, broken only by the clearing of Cragen’s throat as he folded his hands at his midsection. No one moved, no one flinched. Elliot felt his heart beating in his throat as Olivia’s bruising became even more pronounced up close; deepening the anger he was burying.

It was eating at him to wonder how it happened.

He knew her face but not the expression that was locked across it.

“Olivia?” Doctor Halifax pulled her focus and heard the audible swallow as she tore her eyes away from Elliot’s. “Anything?”

Olivia hesitated and sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, holding it there as the emotions collided with anxiety and indecision. “…I don’t know. I should know and it’s all falling apart before it will come out.”

Doctor Halifax knew she was in distress and his focus was entirely on her well-being as he went to fold his hand across the end of her bed. “Do you remember what I told you about that being nor—"

“You say normal again and I swear to God I will scream,” Olivia glared at him, the determination taking over as she gripped the bedding and growled. “This is screwed up and I am a prisoner in my head because I can’t recollect a damn thing past a certain point. Stop looking at me like I’m helpless!”

“If we are making things in here worse, we can come back after some time to process,” Cragen wouldn’t have wanted to leave but making Olivia uncomfortable while injured had tapped into a part of him that he didn’t need to feel. “We can wait.”

“No one is making anything worse unless they want to add to the pretense that I am a porcelain doll capable of breaking into a million pieces,” Olivia’s eyes widened and her hands moved, swinging her drip line awkwardly in the process, very nearly hooking it on part of her bed. “I need some of this fog to go away for long enough to process some of the information in front of me.”

That was the Olivia that Elliot knew, bleeding to the surface.

Elliot could hear it in her voice and see it in her face as the anger began to mask the frustration. It was the same kind that had put him in his place a time or two. She was doing a decent job of intimidating her doctor; a trait that she excelled at. Olivia didn’t know, though, that the ferocity was a positive aspect of her personality as her lost expression devolved into welling tears. She was leaning toward a breakdown right in front of them and Elliot wasn’t about to let it happen.

“You’re Olivia Benson, you live in New York City. Sometimes, I swear your middle name is _stubborn_ but it isn’t, it’s Margaret. You live alone and you like it that way. No one is going to make you do anything you don’t want to do; that will never change,” Elliot was delicate as he said it, the parts of his heart slowly swelling as her eyes searched him, desperate to remember. “It’s okay that you don’t know me…I know _you_.”

“No, no, I can’t recollect exactly who you are or remember your name,” Olivia’s bottom lip fit between her teeth as she inhaled the tears before they could fall, the web of upheaval continuing to sprawl with a singular anchor as his blue eyes held her in place. “…but there’s a part of me floating that seems to know that I should.”

“I’d like Olivia to stay overnight to keep a closer check on the status of the head injury specifically, but if she is ready tomorrow to leave then the discharge will simply involve normal recovery in New York,” Doctor Halifax glanced at the narrowed stare from his patient as he indicated a necessity for a continued stay in the hospital bed. “Captain, I assume you might be able to provide information on a few forms?”

“Oh, I brought a few things that might help,” Cragen held up a folder and nodded as he followed Doctor Halifax into the hallway, leaving the door ajar while Elliot fidgeted alone just feet from Olivia.

“Do you really know me?” Olivia could’ve shattered him with that question and she could tell that he was wounded as he lifted his chin to meet her glance. “…I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Elliot kept the distance between them to steady himself as he inhaled a breath and exhaled slowly, scrutinizing the features of her face as she chewed her lip and rolled the blanket between her fingers. “This isn’t your fault, Liv.”

_Liv._

It hung on his lips and mystified her. More than a nickname and a loaded weapon that had been inserted into her squeezed, buried consciousness. Olivia wanted him to stay and elucidate every bit of lost time but the fear had settled, planted roots, and begun to sprout toward the sky. She hadn’t recognized anyone and the concept of time was muddled, frightening, buried beneath another series of unknowns.

The only certainty was the lure, tugging at the invisible string between them, willing curiosity and encouraging inclination.

She wanted nothing more than for him to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone’s patience has been incredible. I am so sorry it took me this long to finish this one…I had a lot of things that took precedence. However, I’m back. This is one for the ages.
> 
> Please leave love and feedback.
> 
> Quotes by:  
> WH Auden  
> Brendon Burchard


	3. Unwound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Agent Porter’s assistance, Captain Cragen and Detective Stabler take Olivia to the residence that she’d been staying at while undercover, sinking further into questions as she begins to doubt what caused her injuries. Even as space stares back at her, the first glimpse of memory begins to gnaw at her consciousness…and it rattles her to the core.
> 
> “It isn’t where you came from. It’s where you’re going that counts.” – Ella Fitzgerald

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uncertainty /ʌnˈsɝː.tən.ti/
> 
> a situation in which something is not known, or something that is not known or certain:
> 
> Nothing is ever decided, and all the uncertainty is very bad for staff morale.
> 
> Walton County does not exist and neither does Hillsden, Oregon. I grew up in Oregon, so I am using Eugene, Oregon as the basis for my “model” to get the point across. Some of the places within context do exist (just not the towns or counties as they are presented). Please note, this is a departure from the SVU timeline. Consequential episodes that followed or were concurrent will not apply.

_Sometimes you can’t_

_Choose what stays_

_And what fades away_

-Unknown

3:45 PM

Prospect Park Apartments

Walton County, Oregon

Olivia had spent the better part of the ride over in silence. She had been able to pinpoint the part of the route but Cragen kept the SUV closely behind Dean’s car from the moment they left the hospital. She’d given Dean a weird look after he opened the passenger door for her as if she’d follow without hesitation. Much to Dean’s chagrin, Olivia retreated further and postured herself behind Captain Cragen before he could get to the rental. Her discomfort around Agent Dean Porter was leaving a sour taste in Elliot’s mouth but he bit down on his tongue, opting to observe instead of comment.

Cragen, however, asked if Olivia would feel more comfortable riding with them instead. She didn’t even hesitate to accept even with the awkward maneuverability of her arm in a binding sling.

“You okay back there?” Captain Cragen destroyed the quiet contemplation and Olivia’s moment to study the side of Elliot’s head from the backseat. “Looks like we’re almost to the complex that you were staying at?”

“I don’t recognize much of anything other than bits and pieces of the fall. I know it happened here somewhere,” Olivia’s eyes diverted to the dash before focusing out the window at the hillside and the myriad of nestled buildings along the jagged tree line. “I was hoping something would be familiar.”

“No one is expecting you to,” Elliot was trying to be soothing as he glanced over his shoulder at her, lingering just long enough to absorb the sight of her in the oversized clothes that they had to get from the hospital. “One step at a time.”

Olivia wanted to believe in it but all she could fathom was the swirling of uncertainty as to the endless array of trees, their snaking branches, and sweeping leaves blending like waves. Her consciousness resided, somewhere between darkness and light, where the confusion had reached a jagged peak and she was standing at an edge, waiting for an absolution. She feared, though, that it might never come. A bitter, stark white flash drove through her mental processes and wound each synapse like a clock until she inhaled a sharp breath and closed her eyes.

W _elcome to Special Victims Unit, Detective Benson._

The vomit climbed into her throat and stalled as the voice began to connect, as the warmth of a handshake and the glimmer of his tie clip sent her into a tailspin before settling on the side of Captain Cragen’s head. He was more than familiar and so was Elliot; it just wasn’t clicking into place. The engine idled as the tires came to a stop, the gentle squeal of the brakes vibrating through the cab. Olivia forced a weak smile as she watched the rain streaking down the windshield as the wipers stopped fanning across the glass. She wondered how often it rained like this and if it was as depressing as it seemed, or worse.

“Looks like we’re here?” Cragen killed the engine and caught a glimpse of Olivia in the rearview as she tracked Dean getting out of his car before maneuvering to the sidewalk. “Were there any keys in the belongings that the hospital sent back with you?”

“Oh, I think there might be a key floating around in here,” Olivia was already pilfering through the Ziplock style baggie after undoing the seatbelt until her fingers finally wrapped around a well-worn, brass key on a ring with a generic bauble at one end of a chain. “This must be it. I was really living it up out here with a single key and a gas station keychain to keep track of it.”

“This wasn’t your life, Liv. This was just you being dedicated to the job,” Elliot was mesmerized by her as he reassured her once more before sliding out of the passenger side, evading her stare.

“You look like shit,” Dean couldn’t help himself as she struggled with the position of the blue material keeping her from utilizing her left arm. “I mean, you look like you’ve been through the wringer, damn.”

“Thanks?” Olivia didn’t need his input as she juggled the keys while adjusting the front of her shirt, grimacing in his direction. “I didn’t need a recap of what my face looks like right now.”

“My bad…so, the one you’ve been staying in is on the second floor, on the left,” Dean stroked his chin as Olivia sidestepped out of his trajectory, avoiding the outstretched hand with her spare key extended as though it were some sort of peace offering for his obtuse behavior. “Oh, you had the other key on you the whole time?”

“You ask that question as if I was aware of having it in my possession while I was being worked on in a hospital bed,” Olivia glared, burning a hole through him as she wrapped her fingers around the edge of the railing, turning her attention to Elliot as he stayed next to the SUV. “Are you coming or not?”

Elliot hesitated for only a moment before gathering his wits to follow, stopping for a moment as a questionable, intense stare from Dean caught him off guard. The look was loaded and Elliot wasn’t above taking a swing at him on any other day but this one as the smirk crawled across his mouth. Elliot took a subtle amount of pleasure in knowing that Dean Porter was getting irritated over Olivia’s complete discomfort with him. In fact, he would have said that it was almost as satisfying as the facial expression on Olivia’s face as she waited for him at the landing. It was somewhere between curiosity and allure; the combination of which had Elliot swallowing hard as he came to the top step.

“I didn’t think you’d want company in there,” Elliot was behind her as she throttled the key in the lock, wrestling with the sticky handle until it popped open and slammed against the wall.

“I can’t explain it but you make me feel safe,” Olivia yanked the key free and wandered past the threshold, hoping he’d follow without asking questions as she looked back at him and bit down on her lip as his eyes struck another nerve. “I know that’s probably irrational but…it’s true.”

Elliot wanted to tell her everything but the deep-seated sense to hold back was working him over as he nodded, understanding her completely. “It’s not irrational, it’s human, and you’re more than entitled to it…”

Olivia inhaled a deep breath and glanced around the room as she moved past the entrance, at the scantly decorated, plain space that had no sense of identity. “I didn’t want to get comfortable. I remember that. This isn’t home and it never would be…I had to be someone _else_ while I was here.”

“Is that recollection or assumption?” Elliot followed her, carefully studying her movements as she seemed to know exactly where she was going in the one-bedroom, modestly furnished apartment. “This place reminds me of a bachelor pad—no identity and nothing in it.”

“Recollection, almost vividly,” Olivia’s voice was far away as she was thumbing through a notebook full of incongruent, nonsensical ramblings that didn’t seem to mean anything until a flash of dripping forestry shrouded in shadows crept in, inspiring the gag reflex as she could already smell the pitch. “…The FBI wanted to put in more furniture but I declined? I don’t know why that came out like a question but I know this was temporary, at best.”

“That’s more than what you had this morning, though, right?” Elliot knew the excitement was probably a little too much but he knew how much it meant that flickers of memories were coming back so soon. “Your mind is already processing through what is in front of you. That’s great.”

“You don’t have to placate me,” Olivia rolled her eyes, handed him the notebook, and wandered down the narrow, short hall to the open door of a bedroom, a groan leaving her lips as she looked around. “It’s like a glamorous prison cell. How long was I here? Jesus. Campus housing wasn’t even this bad.”

Elliot came up behind her as she was pulling clothes out of the dresser and tossing them into a bag that had been flung onto the twin-size bed. “You’re not wasting any time in packing, huh? It’s not that bad here, you know…”

“I want to go home, Elliot. I can find out what the _fuck_ happened last night when I’m where I can inhale the familiar scent of New York,” Olivia hadn’t turned around but there was a touch of aggression buried in her voice as she continued to empty the contents of the entire dresser, uncertainty flowing through her. “I don’t even know if all of these clothes are things I wear now but it’s going in the bag.”

“Do you want my help?” Elliot was fidgeting at the door, the thumping sound of drawers closing, her back to him as the cradled arm against her body swayed in the sling. “Liv?”

Olivia turned around with a handful of underwear and a smirk perched on her face as the visible layers of satin and lace had Elliot turning pink in an instant. “All that was left…panties. Didn’t think you’d want to be rifling through them.”

It was hard not to find Olivia blisteringly attractive even with the bruising, gashes and scrapes screaming at Elliot from across the room. She was always unintentionally beautiful and it drove him a little crazy. Even as he watched her struggle with the zipper on the bag, there was something remarkably intriguing about her. Lip perched between her teeth, softly grunting as she leaned against the side for leverage, and the stray wisps of curls as they fell into her field of vision. Perfection didn’t exist but she was awfully close.

“Let me get that,” Elliot moved methodically into her personal bubble, carefully taking over on the zipper, gliding it fluidly into place. “Tell me what you need me to do.”

Olivia’s eyes bulged and she choked on her spit as his voice had dropped an octave with the rest of that offer. “Um…maybe check the closet?”

“Okay,” Elliot smiled and gathered the handles of the first bag, setting it near the door before going to the small closet to check for clothes. “You know you’re not carrying any of this outside with that arm in a sling, right?”

“Chivalry, huh? Bet that gets you everywhere,” Olivia elevated a brow at him while she checked the nightstand, hoping to find something that sparked another memory. “Access to so many extras because it makes women swoon a little?”

“I’m just being helpful when you shouldn’t be lifting anything heavy,” Elliot scoffed and pulled a few things from their hangers, carefully draping them over a second, open bag while her intrusive gaze made him nervous. “It’s only chivalrous if it’s out of the ordinary.”

“I may have been born during the day but it wasn’t yesterday,” Olivia quipped and pushed the drawer to the nightstand closed after retrieving a book that had a marker posed through the center, aimed toward her fingers with a thin layer of dust. “I don’t think I wanted to be here anymore or there would’ve been something that stood out among the unremarkable things in this apartment.”

“Couldn’t have been that bad,” Elliot contemplated Olivia while putting the last of the clothes into a second suitcase, leaving the closet empty of everything but an empty box. “You were here and I don’t think you would’ve stayed if it had become hollow.”

Elliot’s demeanor was different and Olivia still couldn’t place the familiarity, even as she watched his careful, methodical movements while helping her pack. It was like splitting light, fractal and broken, through the gaps in curtains…confusing, foggy, and in a continuous loop. Olivia pressed her lips together and moved toward the hallway, her eyes casting back at Elliot as he gathered the suitcases. An electrical hum echoed in the empty room, bouncing off the walls like a rubber ball until it settled into the hollow spaces, blending into nothing. Even as she reached for the light switch, Olivia knew that there was nothing left for her in the confines of the 900 square feet that surrounded belongings that weren’t hers.

“I certainly hope that I start to remember the person that you seem to think that I am,” Olivia ducked into the tiny, square bathroom and gathered the toiletries with her unrestricted arm, stopping for a moment to look at the battered face in the mirror. “All I see when she stares back at me is a person that has seen better days.”

“When you finally see what I see, it’ll all make sense,” Elliot collected the tins of tea from the kitchen counter and pushed them into an open space in the suitcase as she came up behind him with the things from the bathroom. “Do you think that’s everything? I know it’s weird to ask, under the circumstances.”

“I’m sure when the FBI goes to empty it, they’ll just toss the things that they didn’t provide,” Olivia looked out at the sprawling hillside behind the apartment, through the sliding glass door, and let out a long, exhausted sigh. “It really is pretty, though, isn’t it?”

“It certainly is,” Elliot wasn’t looking at the expanse of greenery as it shook the rainwater loose from branches high above, he was looking at Olivia.

_When nothing is sure,_

_Everything is possible._

-Margaret Drabble

2:15 AM

Monday, September 19th 2006

Olivia Benson’s Apartment

New York, NY

Olivia had brought the rain with her from Oregon.

The smell of wet skyscrapers, rising exhaust, and the simmering filth that hid in the corners inspired a modicum of normality and understanding of the world around her. She grasped the door, keenly aware that she didn’t recognize the keys or the lock that they matched, reducing her to an emotional mess behind a façade of exhaustion. Elliot knew that face all too well as he reached for the keyring, guiding the largest one up from her digits, easing her into knowing that he was well acquainted with the right one. Olivia felt the intimacy of the action and blushed as she pushed it into the lock, turned it, and heard the give of the pin as it slid out of place.

The smell of vanilla-laced with an ample amount of dust wafted out as the darkness invited her in.

Olivia wanted to feel at home but it was another layer of bewilderment that only served to disorient her further. It was perplexing despite how easily Elliot moved through the space. She was glad that he hadn’t opted to leave her in the hall. Although, deep within her gut, she knew he wouldn’t have left even if she said she was fine on her own. Hesitancy crept in as she inhaled, demoralized in an instant as the desolation of the life she had put on pause begun to hit her in the face.

She was already fraught with emotion despite the lost look written on her visage.

“Let me help with these,” Elliot still had her luggage at his side, the sleeplessness already nagging at him as he bit down on a yawn and followed her inside. “You’re not going to be able to carry everything on your own.”

“You know you can go home, right? I’ve got it from here,” Olivia didn’t look back as she flicked the lights on and followed the little hallway until she was looking at a reasonably clean space that was in desperate need of some pledge and an open window for the stale air. “I’m sure you’ve got somewhere to be? Wife? Family? Girlfriend?”

“Being stubborn with me while you’re still wearing a sling is ill-advised, Olivia,” Elliot shook his head as he carried the bags past her, effortlessly moving through the apartment without a second thought. “No one is waiting up for me. Well, they’re waiting to hear back from me know if you are here in one piece, but it isn’t because of me.”

“No one? Really? That’s a shocker,” Olivia elevated a brow and dragged her finger over the top of a shelf, disturbing the thick, ashy layer of dust in the process. “It’s going to be such a bitch to clean in here with my arm like this.”

“Yeah, really—I don’t have anywhere to be and I’m in no hurry to leave you high and dry,” Elliot could have elucidated further on the topic but he was enraptured by the look on her face just before she peered into the fridge only to find that it was wiped clean. “I could help with cleaning as long as nothing is rotting in that.”

“I’m a little shocked that I had enough foresight to clean it out before I went to Oregon,” Olivia chuckled and pushed it shut. “Which means that I also have no groceries in this apartment. Can’t say I didn’t see that coming.”

“You usually don’t, Liv. I’m certain you have a few takeout places on speed dial,” Elliot smirked as he carefully adjusted the suitcases at the end of her bed, calling to her from around the corner. “That’s an easy fix, though.”

“I should probably give my mom a call and let her know I’m okay even though she obviously won’t give a damn about it or lecture me about being needlessly reckless,” Olivia had her hand on the receiver sitting on the docking station, the zero in red flickering at her from the answering machine.

Elliot’s stomach dropped as he opened the luggage for her after setting it on top of the bed. He poked his head into the hallway as she stared at the handheld just off to the side of the kitchen entrance, thumb moving over the buttons without pressing fully. He wanted to call it out to her. He wanted to let her know what had happened. The words just wouldn’t come as her face contorted while pressing the talk button. This was going to break her and shatter his heart in the same breath.

He was hoping this was the one part of her life that she would remember without assistance but it wasn’t meant to be.

“Elliot?” Olivia turned her head as the tears bit at the corners of her eyes, a far off look taking her over as her voice shrank into a level of frailty she rarely let slip free. “I need you to tell me…she’s dead, isn’t she?”

Elliot didn’t know how to respond verbally and he knew his face would betray him before even moving. Confirmation of the worst news, or not, she deserved to know. He stepped into the hallway and caught a straight-on vantage point of Olivia’s face as she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. She was biting down on it, the flaring of her nostrils visible from feet away. His shoulders dropped and the silence was deafening as she put the phone back down. Nothing was going to be easy about watching Olivia regain memories.

Elliot already wanted to take the pain away; he just didn’t know how.

“I didn’t want to make it worse for you,” Elliot bit down on his lip and fumbled with the syllables as those eyes nearly brought him to his knees from a single look. “You’ve been through so much already.”

“I remember her funeral, Elliot,” Olivia wiggled her nose in a feeble attempt to quell the tears as her eyes glassed over and the thoughts began to race while another flash of him in all black with a single, white rose between his fingers popped into her memories. “You were there…next to me, hands folded like you were praying for me, not her.”

“Yeah, Liv, I was. Not that you needed my strength that day,” Elliot was at a loss even as he visualized that part of his thoughts, fixating on the desire to tap the center of her palm while it rained above them, even if she had rejected the gesture. “You didn’t cry but you rarely do.”

It was another of his regrets manifesting. Olivia put the phone back down and closed her eyes while another wave of dizziness rolled through her. She could almost smell the dirt, the rain, and the freshly cut grass on the hillside as the blossom of white seared into her soul, ripping another layer of sadness from her. It wasn’t that she missed her mother but that she didn’t remember the moment it all came to an end. Olivia shook her head as she moved past him, entering the confines of her bedroom as a couple of tears escaped and nearly took the rest of the wind from her sails.

She was close to hyperventilating but didn’t want Elliot to see it happen.

“Yes, I did…I just, waited, until you left to do it,” Olivia reached into the bags, pulling article by article free from the inside, throwing them across the room until her fingers were wrapped around a pair of pajamas while she kept her back turned. “Why would I remember that?”

“I wish I knew why that was what you were able to recall first, Liv,” Elliot leaned against the doorjamb and gave her space as she aggressively shoved the suitcases to one side of the bed while the gentle sound of sobbing came for his heart. “Do you need me to go so you have some time to let this pass? I don’t want to make it worse.”

Olivia was racked by anguish, torment, and self-inflicted mental torture as she squeezed her fingers around the opening of the bag in front of her, coiling her digits around a tee-shirt while the tone went ragged in her throat. “No, please, don’t! I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You’re a lot tougher than you think you are,” Elliot knew pain and it was written all over her face as he took slow, careful steps closer to her side until he could pry the poly fibers free from her grip. “If you want me to stay then let me help…I’m not going to watch you struggle.”

“I can’t be alone in this silent mausoleum of trapped memories that refuse to pop free so I can unwind and unscramble everything inside this head of mine,” Olivia watched him meticulously lay out clean, dry pajamas and the necessities for everything but a full shower.

“I’ll stay as long as you need,” Elliot smoothed his palm down the edge of the doorjamb, his considerable grip hiding the trim for a long moment before meeting his side. “I’m going to see if I can find one of those late-night greasy spoons that you like to abuse on occasion so you can get something in your stomach before you sleep.”

“…Okay,” Olivia was somewhere between appreciation and frustration as she nodded before crossing the room with the pajamas in her hand. “Thank you, Elliot. I don’t know if I’d be able to get through this without your help.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Liv, I’ll always have your back,” Elliot tapped the door, smiled, and went to the kitchen to dig through the plethora of takeout menus buried in a drawer near the telephone. “Jesus…this has gotten worse since I was here last.”

Olivia Benson, the collector of takeout and delivery menus from far too many restaurants in Midtown Manhattan, had added more than twenty bifold and trifold items to her collection, some of which were marked with favorites. Cooking had never been her forte and neither had spending enough time within these walls to put much thought into a meal. It was one of her unintentionally more endearing qualities that she, most likely, had forgotten. Even as he stood in the kitchen, pilfering through the menus, he could hear her cursing under her breath from the bedroom while struggling, stubbornness shining from behind walls. It was another of those attributes that she possessed that drove him a little crazy and wild. Yet, there he stood, listening like a curious child intent on learning another one of her well-guarded secrets.

“Fuck, Goddammit, come on…” Olivia growl preceded an unpleasant thud, startling Elliot as he settled on one of the Chinese delivery places that she had almost worn the letters off of. “Shit. That’s gonna leave a mark. It’ll blend in with the rest of them...just unhook already!”

“Are you okay in there?” Elliot’s thumb hovered over the numbers on the receiver, a hint of a smile hiding on his lips as the grappling became more evident as one with clothing. “Olivia?”

She was too proud to give in and request help with it, for so many reasons. He held the receiver to his chin and listened to the continued tussle in the bedroom as a nervous laugh followed. She was going to fight it with her every breath as if it somehow marked an irreversible amount of weakness. It was the opposite, though, and Elliot licked his lips despite himself. Another stumble and a stuttered thud raised an alarm as he leaned into the hall while still holding the phone and menu in his hands.

“Okay, I give,” Olivia exhaled loudly, resigning to the actuality of the situation as she stood, with the unsheathed, ravaged arm ragged against her body, tangled in the clothing she was desperate to get out of. “I need your help and I’ll kill you where you stand if you so much as laugh at me or flinch over why…do you understand me?”

“A request, a threat, and a demand before I can even call a delivery place? Well, alright then,” Elliot set the phone and paper menu on the counter, freely maneuvering into the room where Olivia’s endeavor looked more like a personal battle on display. “These are supposed to come off before you put the other on.”

“You are such a dick,” Olivia was covered in a thin layer of sweat, her hair a mess with only the unrestricted arm pulled free from the shirt she was taking off, the picture of the floundering mess that she knew she was. “I can’t get the clasp undone or the shirt pulled off my other arm…everything is stuck and I’d like it if you could unburden this catastrophe.”

“Oh…okay,” Elliot cleared his throat and stared at the clash of black lace, satin, and the shimmering clasp of the closure at the center of her back between her shoulder blades divided the mix of ivory and olive that had been unmarred by bruises. “You’ll tell me if I’m hurting you? Pinching? Making you uncomfortable?”

“I’m fine,” Olivia held a breath as the chill of his skin inspired a trail of gooseflesh down her back while she craned her neck to watch him unhook her bra as though he’d done it a thousand times. “Ah, um, your hands are fucking cold as hell…”

“Sorry, it can’t be helped,” Elliot chewed the inside of his cheek as he did his best not to pay attention to the undeniable heft of her breasts as they pushed against the material of the bra he’d just undone while untangling the shirt from her neck and arm. “You could stop wiggling like a child fresh from a bath, though, that would be helpful.”

“If your hands weren’t like icicles, I wouldn’t feel the need to evade them,” Olivia blushed as he tossed the shirt and draped the discarded sling over his shoulder while his thumbs tucked under the straps of the bra clinging to her. “I’m going to have to change the bandages but I don’t know if I want to mess with them tonight.”

“You’re safe to leave them alone until morning, I’d think,” Elliot was caught somewhere between the attraction to the scent wafting off of her skin, feverishly listening to the sound of sharp inhales as he guided the bra away from her torso, and fighting the urge to take in the sight of her naked breasts before he pulled the material of the pajama top over her head. “Are you going to be able to manage the bottoms on your own or do you need assistance with that?”

“You’re not taking off my pants, Elliot Stabler,” Olivia inadvertently grasped his arm as he dangled the matching bottoms in front of her, breathing heavily for entirely too long as the air strangled her lungs and sent a pang straight to her knees. “I’ve got it from here.”

Elliot cleared his throat and trapped his bottom lip between his teeth as he slowly backed away, toward the door, a hint of a smile betraying his cool exterior. “I’ll…uh…go order that food while you finish up in here.”

“Chinese?” Olivia still had a considerable shade of pink residing on her cheeks as she unbuttoned her pants. “I’d like that if that’s what you were thinking about?”

“You bet,” Elliot nodded and went for the phone, thumbing through the menu he’d already laid out.

Elliot couldn’t help but feel a twitch of relief at Olivia’s choice, at the intimation of insight into the pieces of herself that were still hiding away. Olivia Benson’s addled memories were fighting to crawl to the surface. The echo of her life was there, it was just stored and hidden away from her reach, even if temporarily. Even as Elliot dialed to make that food order, his heart began to thump at the remembrance of helping to lead Olivia down a path that would evoke enough of a spark to clear the fog. Every little reminder would lead somewhere, even if each one was no more than a baby step.

All Olivia needed was a sign and enough of a reminiscent thought to drive the rest of the point home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quotes by:  
> Ella Fitzgerald  
> Unknown  
> Margaret Drabble
> 
> I am so sorry this one has taken a bit to get done. Life ran away from me and I’ve had to adjust a few…things…
> 
> However, there is so much to come. To Aubrey, thank you for being so kind in looking over so much of this and giving such great feedback. You’re amazing!
> 
> I hope this is intriguing and that you’ll continue the journey, leave some love, and let me know if it’s everything that ya’ll were hoping for!

**Author's Note:**

> It’s a bit of a mean place to leave it but it is also…such a deep place to go. We have a journey to start and this is going to be such a solid fic for me to delve into. I hope you join me.
> 
> To my girls in the group…you did this. 
> 
> Quotes by:  
> Wyatt  
> Anonymous


End file.
